


■• v*i 



No. 1. 



^ 



ESSAY ON EDUCATION; 



!N WHICH THB 



SUBJECT IS TREATED AS A NATURAL SCIENCE, 



SBRIBS OF FAMILIAR LECTURES. 



WITH NOTES. 



BY MRS. BARBARA O'SULLIVaN ADDlCKS. 



DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE RIGHT HONORABLE JOHN MARSHALL, 
Chief Justice of the United States. 



N E W YO R K : 

PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL PRE8!?, PRINT 

Ai PCCO XXXVU. 



V 






^ 






NOTICE ON THE DEDICATION 



In the autumn of 1834, being on the eve of my departure for Eng- 
land, where I intended to publish some miscellaneous writings, 1 ' 
addressed a letter to Chief Justice Marshall, requesting his permis- 
sion to dedicate them to him, and received the following answer : — 

Richmond, Dec. 12, 1834. 

Madam, — Your letter of the 25th of November was accidentally 
mislaid, so that I have read it only this morning. I wish you a 
safe and pleasant voyage and a happy reunion with your friends. 

It has always been my wish to avoid receiving the dedication of 
any work. It has the appearance of courting compliments. My 
objections, however, are not of such a character as to go farther than 
the mere expression of disinclination, and should you think the 
dedication to me calculated to answer your wishes, it will give me 
pleasure. 

I am, Madam, very respectfully, 

Your obedient servant, 

J. Marshall. 

Although subsequent circumstances prevented me from accom- 
plishing my desired journey, now that I am presenting my Lectures 
on Education to the American public, I believe that I may dedicate 
them to the memory of him, who, when living, permitted me to do 
so to himself in person. 

In my incapacity to give utterance to the recollections that crowd 
on my mind when thinking of Chief Justice Marshall, I shall, in 
the following extract from a letter written to myself, borrow the 
words and sentiments of the Honorable Joseph Hopkinson, Judge 
of the United States District Court for Pennsylvania; and I do so 
the more readily, as it portrays in true colors the character of 



4 

the late Chief Justice of this Union ; — it also presents a perfect 
model of eloquence, and reflects that moral and intellectual excel- 
lence with which the writer is gifted in an eminent degree. 

" I saw your friend the Chief Justice a few days before his death. 
He was to the last the great and good man ; unassuming, shading 
his vast intellect and high qualities under a veil of unaffected mo- 
desty, boasting of nothing, complaining of nothing. Honors came 
upon him without an emotion of vanity, and sickness and suffering 
without a murmur of impatience : solicitous to give as little trouble 
as possible to any body, and grateful for the humblest attentions. 
There is no such man left among us. He is the last of our truly 
great men. In my estimation we have had but four — Washington, 
Hamilton, Robert Morris, and Marshall. We have had and have 
now many extraordinary men — men of high talents and distin- 
guished qualifications, but a great man, who fills the whole measure 
of the character, with all its moral and intellectual requisites, is a 
rara avis^ 

Barbara O'Sullivan Addicks. 



The merit of the following pages will be found in 
the purity of sentiment and the love of trutii which 
is manifested throughout the whole of their contents. 
Inclination first prompted me to write them; and in 
offering them now to the public, lam actuated by the 
motives that usually induce such attempts. If, in 
advantaging myself, I, perchance, occasion some ben- 
efit to the reader, the end of my labours will be 
accomplished. 

THE AUTHOR. 



The present Essay on Education, treated as a 
natural science, in a series of familiar Lectures, 
will comprehend the investigation of that subject, 
under three separate sections, containing the follow- 
ing order of inquiries : 

Section 1st. The Physical Organization of Man, considered in 
its correspondence with the faculties of the mind, and the pur- 
poses of Education — The Term Education — Its radical mean- 
ing — Its application to things in general — Its bearing to man in 
particular. 

Section 2d. The Education of Man in general, as it ap- 
pertains, 1st, to the relations of his Physical State; 2d, to 
the relations of his Intellectual State ; lastly, to those of his 
Social State. 

Section .^d. The Education of Women especially considered — 
its importance to the good of society — its being the guide to all 
improvements in civilization, and the main conductor to the com- 
plete fulfilment of the intention of man's existence as an intel- 
lectual being. 



LECTURE THE FIRST. 



FIRST SECTION 



ARGUMENT. 



The Physical Organization of Man ; considered in its correspondence 
with the intentions of an intelligent mind, and in its consequent 
bearing upon Education — The Human Hand ;* the evident impres- 
sion which it bears of the existence of an intelligent power, to the 
execution of the dictates of which it is indispensable— Speech ; the 
most conspicuous of the bodily faculties, whereby the intentions of 
the mind are made known, inasmuch as it offers the readiest means 
of giving utterance to language — Language ; one of the highest gifts 
of human intellect, inseparable from the mind, and co-existent with 
thought — The correct understanding of language indispensable to 
the attainment of knowledge, as the non-comprehension of it is the 
cause of errors — The disadvantage of the English Language on that 
account — the term Education offers an example of this, proved by 
inquiring into the original meaning of the term— Its application to 
things in general and to man in particular. 



If we look into the animal kingdom,! we discover 
every species of which it is composed to be a link in 
an unbroken chain of beings : in the most minute 
animal as in that of the greatest bulk ; in the most 
inert as in the most active; in the weakest as in the 
strongest ; in the most intelligent and skilful as in the 
dullest and least able ; in the no longer existing sorts 
as in those of the present day: in all, the same prin- 



» See note A. t See note B 

Q 



10 

ciples of bodily organization prevail. And yet, man 
is aware of a power within him, which he believes 
other animals not to have in common with himself 
He thinks that he is urged by an impulse or a 
power different from that of mere bodily sensation 
or necessity ; and however unsettled this opinion 
may be, ere matured reflection enlightens his under- 
standing, still he thus believes, and is confirmed in this 
belief by the manifestation of superior intention in 
the mechanism and faculties of his body. In short, 
man intuitively and demonstratively knows that he 
has a mind. 

Buffon says, that man having a hand, he must of 
consequence have a soul ; and a celebrated philolo- 
gist of the present day, Dr. Thiersch, of Munich, in 
the Introduction to his learned Grammar of the Greek 
Tongue, supposes, that the faculty of speech in man 
is the first index of his having a mind. These philo- 
sophical opinions are meant to evince, that although 
man's bodily organization, as far as it relates only to 
his animal wants, resembles that of the brute, yet he 
is also fitted with physical organic powers suited to 
perform the dictates of the mind. The brute kind 
appears not to be organized to obey any other 
impulse than that of mere animal necessity ; man, 
on the contrary, is bodily fashioned with faculties 
appropriate to the intentions of the mind, the purposes 
of the will ; and it may be farther advanced, that the 



II 

intention of man's here-being is such, that those dis- 
tinguishing bodily faculties, governed by the mind, are 
requisite even to the gratification of the wants 
caused by the impulses to which he is moved in com- 
mon with other animals. The brute species, appa- 
rently constructed to obey no law except that of 
'necessity, never acts wrong : never in violation of its 
nature and intent. With it, instinct, meaning an in- 
ward motion, a motion in the parts themselves, unin- 
fluenced by the power of volition, is sufficient to all 
the purposes of existence. Not so with man, whose 
first obligation is not to follow, but to control his in- 
stinct, and who, even in the unavoidable subjugation 
of his bodily wants, if not ruled by the mind, will not 
only positively act wrong and against the dignity of 
his intent, but be far below the brute. In short, so 
imperiously is it ordered that man should by virtue of 
his reasoning faculty hold a never-ceasing command 
over his instinct and its consequences, that where 
this is not the case — where he is seen without this 
helm, this guide ; a rational mind, a regulated will — 
not any thing in nature presents an aspect of so 
abhorrent and senseless a kind, as we behold in 
him : nay, on such an occasion, the very superiority 
of the conformation of his body, serves only to 
exhibit in a stronger point of view, the total imbe- 
cility to which it is subjected w^hen not directed by 
intelligence. Can we reflect on this and not grieve 



12 

at witnessing so perfect an intent as man perverted 
by ignorance? Can we behold his godlike attri- 
butes, and not shudder on discovering them daily 
violated by vice? Yes; I repeat, whilst instinct 
and its consequent impulses are all-sufficient to the 
brute ; principles — principles founded on a dispassion- 
ate judgment of the fitness and unfitness of things — 
are the only guides which man can or dare follow^ ; 
and on this great truth, as I shall hereafter prove, rests 
the whole aim of man's education. I cannot let pass 
the opportunity oflfered me by my observations on the 
distinguishing features of man's bodily organization, 
without reverting to my quotation from Buffon, w^hich 
says, that the peculiar conformation of the human 
hand points out the fact of man having a soul. 

I have found it difficult to comprehend, how per- 
sons of reflection could misunderstand or pervert the 
meaning intended to be conveyed on this subject by 
this great observer of nature. To see individuals 
of supposed veracity and of knov/n learning, play as 
it were the part of children, and in corresponding 
capriciouvsness refuse to admit the truth contained in 
an assertion, the good ground for which is so clearly 
demonstrated, is indeed a phenomenon in morals. 
Nay ; even a child, supposing its powers of perception 
were not already weakened by unmeaning prejudices 
and contradictions, would familiarly seize hold of the 
full and unobscured meaning contained in the obser- 



13 

ration of this celebrated naturalist. For my part, 
I was scarcely twelve years of age when I read 
Buffon, whose works came to the relief of my, till 
then, daily reading of the Latin Liturgy and the 
Lives of the Saints ; and I may feel some gratitude 
towards it, from its having been the first book 
'which freed my intellects from their state of 
imprisonment, although, in justice to the good re- 
ceived from my education in a convent, I shall say, 
that the reading of the Lives of the Saints in the 
Roman Calendar, joined to the exceeding quiet and 
purity^ of cloistered scenes, was the earliest source 
from which I imbibed those impressions of the sublime 
in human actions, mixed, I own, with many ex- 
travagant ideas, but which nevertheless served to 
dispose my mind to the practice of the best principles 
of which human nature is capable. 

Those who have read Buifon know the attraction 
which that learned man has strown over the pages of 
his work. True, not in every case will some of his 
hypotheses hold good with the present march of 
obr:;ervations, but even in their supposed errors they 
are full of sublimity and of beauty. I now have a 
lively recollection of the curiosity and wonder with 
which my young thoughts dwelt on his beautiful 
theory of the earth, as also on his penciling of the 
soul-proclaiming lineaments of the human hand. 

» See note C. 



14 

Then even in dream I would follow up the traces 
of creation ; see the hand of the Almighty strike 
forth from the centre of light, orbs of virtual matter, 
wiiich, ranging themselves in dependent order, formed 
the system in which we revolve ; and on awakening, 
would I look on the face of day with delight, and 
behold my own hands with confidence. 

I know not any subject on which most men 
have written better, or one the study of which is 
more calculated to please, than Natural Philosophy : 
whether it is that man, in the contemplation of a vast, 
passionless and unerring subject, losing sight of his 
individuality, becomes also free from the influence of 
petty motives ; or that the charms of truth discover- 
able in nature render vapid every selfish view, I .shall 
not take upon myself to judge ; but it is certain that 
writings on natural science are less encumbered and 
disfigured by monotony, false reasoning, prejudices, 
narrow conceptions, and a desire of domineering, than 
any other species of composition common among us ; 
and consequently it is that the study of them affords 
both pleasure and instruction. In the second case, 
not any pursuit after literary attainment and the 
knowledge of science is so fitted to captivate the 
attention and induce a spirit of research, as that 
which leads to the understanding of Natural Philos- 
ophy. The sudden discovery of a thousand move- 
ments, beauties, and relative properties in objects, 



15 

which before appeared to be merged ia inactive 
sameness and to exist by mere effects of chance, gives 
a peculiar buoyancy to the mind. We become, as it 
were, endowed with a duplicate of senses. A new 
language strikes on our ears ; prospects before tui- 
known spread before our sight, and we are sensible 
of a thousand impressions till then unfelt. And as 
we advance in life, if perchance grief enter the heart 
and canker there; if our fellow beings forsake, and 
our very children turn from us, ah ! then it is that we 
find a solace in communing with Nature. We look 
to the clear blue sky, peopling it with beings more 
kind, more constant, more humane ; or, reclining on 
the young verdure, bend over each flower, and ask if 
a congenial spirit breathe not there. The grave itself 
is no longer dark, for there too Nature keeps her vigil, 
and come what may, we approach under the guidance 
of her laws. 

Not to digress longer from the subject in view, 
namely, the intention of the human hand as discover- 
able in the mechanism of its parts, I shall proceed to 
say, that in all ages, among all nations, and as if by 
common assent, the hand of man has given rise to 
some of the finest figures in poetry and in heroic lan- 
guage. In profane and sacred legends — in the wor- 
ship of the heathen, in that of the Jews, and lastly 
in that of the Christians — the hand offers a conspicu- 
ous emblem of purity and of power. In the circum- 



16 

stances of social life, and on the assumption of moral 
responsibility, the hand is held out as the pledge for 
each firm, sacred, honourable, friendly and endearing 
act. Among many nations, swearing by the hand of 
some of its rulers was a sacred oath ; as for example, 
in Ireland ; and the original costumes of the ancient 
Irish deserve attention, from the evidence which they 
bear of a common origin with those of the most en- 
lightened nations of the remotest antiquity : We find 
that in that particular clan^ which once possessed 
and spread over the whole south of that island, to 
swear by the hand of him who ruled over it, was an 
oath thought to have been so awful, that even to this 
day not one bearing the name would have the hardi- 
hood to violate it. The pride of hand which we dis- 
cover in women, in certain families of renown, and in 
those of kingly race, is only an additional circum- 
stance in support of the belief that the hand re- 
ceives a strong impression from the sentiments of the 
mind, and consequently becomes as it were an her^ 
aldic feature of pure, talented, and commanding 
thoughts. The fitness of the hand to express the 
feelings of the soul by corresponding motions, and its 
evident incapacity the moment that the mind is itself 
incapacitated, is a fact strikingly observable in insane 
persons and in idiots. Those who have not been in a 
situation to observe in actual life examples of what 

* See note D, 



17 

I here advance, will have had ample opportunities of 
doing so when given on the stage. Who has seen 
'^ Zear/' well acted, that will not come in support of 
my first position? Behold the agitated, impotent 
and uncertain movement of the sceptreless hand of 
this dethroned king — this heart-broken father— this 
vvo-maddened old man! Methinks his trembling, 
sighing^ hands tell, not of a physical disorder of the 
brain, but of that deep, all-destroying madness of the 
soul, which the ingratitude of a child — of a daughter 
alone — can cause. In the comedy of '' Rule a Wife 
and have a Wife," — a composition in which I never 
could discover any intention but that of a humiliating 
satire! on the female mind, — we are presented with 
a true picture in proof of the second case, namely, of 
the impotence of the hand in idiots, or in persons 
ignorant from innate stupidity. 

That play is the first at which I was present on 
coming out of the cloister ; and as I did not then 
understand the English tongue, the gestures of the 
actors alone were comprehensible to me ; yet never 
shall I forget, and Siore than thirty years stand be- 
tween now and the time of which I speak, never 
shall I forget the exhibition of absolute dulness and 
complete idiotism observable in Cooper's hands, as in 
acting the part of the open-mouthed and should-be 

• ♦See note E. t See note F. 

3 



18 

brainless lover, his lank fingers hung inertly by his 
side. So well had this excellent actor studied the art 
of cutting off, as it were, all correspondence between 
those members and his intelligent eyes, that w^hilst 
these in stolen glances darted forth all the purposes 
of his schemmg thoughts, the former hung on, a dead 
weight, so slothful and so stupid, that the very food 
would have dropped from them on its way to a hun- 
gry stomach, and that from sheer want of sufiicient 
animation to hold it. 

Speaking in the opposite sense, namely, in proof 
of the impression which the hands have of the dignity 
of the mind, I will advance, that I never saw a person 
having a handsome hand that did not also possess 
great intelligence and abilities. Mrs. Siddons, of 
whom may be said, as said Frederick the Great, of 
Leibnitz, '• she had more than one soul," had a hand 
surpassingly beautiful and expressive. In none of 
those of the royal^ personages whom I have been 
permitted to approach, have I discovered greater im- 
print of sovereignty than was perceivable in that of 
Mrs. Siddons. When that distinguished woman held 
forth her hand, the effect on the beholder was pecu- 
liarly striking, and acted on the mind as the harbinger 
of the heroic verses to which this ^' great mistress of 
the voice" gave so much strength, pathos, and beauty. 

* See note G. 



19 

I ^ould take this opportunity to remark, that of 
all the celebrated women of whom history makes 
mention, there is not one whose biography should be 
more attentively read, particularly by women, than 
that of Mrs. Siddons. Her being a great actress was 
not simply the result of early habits improved to 
perfection by the precepts and examples of the tal- 
ented actors of her time ; but her excellence on the 
stage arose from that boundless conception of the 
commanding and the beautiful, which was a peculiar 
feature of her mind, and for the manifestation of 
which her person and her voice had been as if ex- 
pressly ordered. Every hour of that ladys life was 
devoted to some noble purpose. Notwithstanding 
the major portion of tune which must of necessity 
have been taken up by the duties attendant on the ex- 
alted rank which she held in her profession, Mrs. Sid- 
dons found leisure to cultivate her taste for statuary ; 
and it was in the study of that superior branch of the 
fine arts, that she acquired the chaste and grace- 
ful style of draperies and attitudes which in her 
acting gave her whole appearance an air so truly 
picturesque and classic. In person as in mind. Mrs. 
Siddons presents a perfect model of the charms and 
dignity of human nature. With Rush I exclaim, 
" The vision of the great actress is before me ! ' and 
in common with Bvron, I would not that the impres- 
sion of it were effaced. 



20 

To conclude my observations on the subject of the 
hand, I shall state, that were I to cite the hundreds 
of examples that can be adduced in support of Buf- 
fon's having rightly discriminated the character of 
the human hand, a volume would scarcely suffice. 
I shall, therefore, close the subject with saying, that 
Buffon never meant to advance, as some writers 
have asserted of him, that the soul of man was cre- 
ated for the use of his hands ; but he merely wished 
to demonstrate, that on beholding the human hand, 
the belief must follow, that so finely formed an 
instrument could have been intended only as the 
executive of an intelligent mind. A fact which we 
cannot disprove is, that without the hand there is 
not before us the least appearance of a means 
whereby the conceptions of the mind can be brought 
into effect. In Georgetown, District of Columbia, I 
saw a man born blind, who was not only a good 
cabijietmaker, but also an excellent mathematician. 
On crossing the Allegany I came to a farm kept by 
a family of blind people, a man and his two sisters, 
all three born blind ; and yet the house, garden, 
orchard, field, and dairy, bore the semblance of hav- 
ing been governed with the nicest attention to com- 
fort and profit. But who ever saw a human being 
without hands accomplish any thing materially use- 
ful to himself or to his fellow beings 1* 

* See note H. 



21 

At this instant the fact strikes me, that in the word 
^mechanics we have a clear demonstration of what I 
have been endeavoring to prove through the whole of 
the foregoing remarks ; for whilst the general accepta- 
tion of this term is the science of the laws of motion, 
its radicals imply an operation consummated by the 
'joint dictates of the faculties of intelligence and 
those of matter — in man, of the mind and those of 
the body — those of the hand. We are aware that 
the faculties of the body become developed in propor- 
tion to the force and frequency with which they are 
exercised; and it is likewise evident, that if he who 
executes an art be the same individual who conceived 
it, the greater share of mental power required for 
the conception of such art, the greater will be the 
impress on of mind on the bodily organ which is 
employed in executing it. 

I am sensible that I have been somewhat prolix 
on the subject of the hand ; still, good can flow from 
it, inasmuch as from what I have said, young persons 
may discover that the best cosmetic for the hand is 
produced by inducing the mind to follow a constant 
course of noble and virtuous sentiments. 

Of all the bodily faculties whereby man can bring 
into operation the conceptions of the mind, that of 
speech holds the first rank, inasmuch as it offers the 
readiest means of giving utterance to language, a 
power inseparable from the operation of the mind ; 



22 

for whilst without language, man might as well 
have been without a mind : in the absence of mind, 
speech were to him a superfluous endowment. I 
shall exemplify the truth of this proposition by pass- 
ing in review the operations that take place each 
moment in the mind, and to the accomplishment of 
which, language is indispensable. 

Man experiences sensations ; he is capable of con- 
sciousness ; he thinks ; he reflects ; he judges. Sen- 
sations are produced by the action of matter, actu- 
ally or recollectively. Consciousness is the internal 
sense of the existence of these sensations. Thinking 
is an act of the mind originating in consciousness, 
and presupposes a distinct and intentional perception 
of things, their actions, and effects. Reflection is 
the act of examining our thoughts, and of making 
them subservient to our judgment: lastly, judgment 
is the decision of the mind on the fitness of things, 
acts, and effects, by means of comparison. The first 
two of these faculties, namely, sensation and con- 
sciousness, are involuntary and common to all ani- 
mals ; the last three, however, are governed by the 
will, and might he thought the privilege of man only. 
I say might be, from the consideration that when 
man shall have attained to the science of '' breathing 
the breath oflife^^ into apparently cold, motionless mat- 
ter, then, and then only, may he arrogate to himself 
the power of pronouncing on the hidden faculties of 



23 

living things. However, as it is not my wish to 
encumber the subject which I have chosen to lecture 
upon wath speculative disputations, I shall proceed to 
state, that in accordance with what I have said to be 
the power of thinking and its attendant faculties, re- 
flection and judgment, it is evident, that without the 
'additional faculty of language, that of thought would 
be to no rational end: for, as in that case, man 
not having the power of retaining his thoughts, his 
life would be filled up with a round of sensations, 
going and coming as the objects and necessity 
which occasion them come and go. In short, under 
the influence of so sad a state, man could be only 
a brute. 

We must therefore conclude, that since neither the 
faculty of language nor that of thought could be to 
any purpose without mutual co-operation, each must 
have been coeval to the other ; consequently, with 
his first thought man nmst have uttered his first 
word. It matters not whether that first word was 
oral, or made known by means of speech, or made 
palpable to the sight by means of gesture or form, 
or whether it was merely quiescent in the mind; 
a word it still was, and meant to portray and pre- 
serve the thought for which it stood, else the thought 
itself could not have had duration ; nay, it could not 
even have come into existence. And now the infer- 
ence follow^s, that as thinking originates in the con- 



24 

sciousness of our sensations, language, in proclaiming 
thoughts, must also have made known the concurring 
elements and circumstances that originated thoughts. 
If these were simple in their elements, the name to 
designate them must also have been simple; if, 
on the contrary, they were complex thoughts, or 
thoughts resting on the idea of the connexion or 
relation of two separate things, composite terms, 
that is to say, terms compounded of parts bearing 
a similitude to the separate elements of which the 
thoughts were composed, must have been used. 
Did, however, a thought rise in the mind, based on 
the close connexion, relation or dependence of se- 
veral distinct objects, acts or consequences, resolved 
into one whole ; it is evident, that on such an 
occasion the primitive man, untaught in the lan- 
guage of art, would simply have composed a 
term consisting of parts expressive of the most 
prominent features observable in the matters which 
gave rise to that thought. Hence it is, that whilst 
the languages of primitive or untaught people are 
less furnished with adjuncts and explicatives than 
those of cultivated nations, and from that circum- 
stance less fitted to objects of science, nevertheless, 
from their abounding in figures drawn from sensible 
objects and from natural passions, they are as re- 
markable for their conciseness, as they are rendered 



25 

impressive, and often magnificent, by their strength 
^nd pathos. 

From the foregoing exposition of the use of words 
we come to the perception, that language, being the 
only means whereby man could portray the inten- 
tions of his mind, the first step to civilization must 
'have been the improvement of language. That this 
is a fact is easily proved. Civilization implies the 
attainment of ideal or moral excellence, meaning 
the attainment of those objects, whether real or 
imaginary, that conduce to the promotion of our 
Qomfort or our delight; such as charity and justice to 
our fellow beings, the study of nature, application to 
the fine arts, the cultivation of refinement both in 
manners and address, a delicate sense of what is 
due to the feelings of others, a high sense of honor, 
&c., &c., &c. ; and in granting this definition of the 
term to be correct, we are brought to the conviction 
that it takes its rise in thoughts, the objects of 
which are purely intellectual, and originate in the 
wants of the mind. 

Admitting the truth of this last position, our next 
inquiry is, how shall such thoughts be held fast in 
our remembrance, to the end that they may be re- 
flected on, judged, preserved, and transmitted, if we 
have not some appropriate terms to designate them ? 
Sensible objects, on coming in contact with the 
senses, at once proclaim themselves ; and we become 
4 



26 

conscious of the sensation which they produce at the 
instant, and are often led to recollect that which 
similar ones may have produced on some former 
occasion. Did any sensation create delight, the 
consciousness of it being impressed on the mind, 
will lead us to seek the opportunity of renewing 
the same ; on the contrary, is it pain that charac- 
terizes the sensation, the sense of pain and the ur- 
gency of avoiding a renewal of it will hold as strongly 
on the recollection. And it is evident that these 
operations, as far as they relate to animal actions 
only, could take place without the use of language. 
But the case immediately alters the moment that we 
are induced either to reason on the cause or causes 
that have occasioned this pleasurable or painful 
sensation, or are called upon to decide on the expe- 
diency of renewing the one or avoiding the other, 
from the comparison of their consequences ; and here 
it is that the rational faculties of man first come into 
action : and to form a correct judgment, being 
obliged to call to mind numerous ingredients, that 
by reflecting and comparing them he may judge 
of their nature and fitness, it is evident each must 
have a name, else, not having the means of calling 
them to mind at pleasure, nor with perspicuity, they 
could not be made to take the stable and collected 
aspect necessary to the close and satisfactory inves- 
tigation of their several characters and capacities. 



27 

Since language is requisite in the judgment of 
the actual impressions caused by sensible objects 
on our senses, how much more indispensable must it 
be to the investigation of ideal and moral purposes ! 
I may advance that each moral idea, as also ideal 
excellence in any one thing, is the result of a long 
series of thoughts on the nature and intentions of 
a combination of actions, and the consequences of 
these actions relatively to man; and in admitting 
this exposition to be correct, we are struck by the 
multitude of objects, acts, and effects which the 
Judgment of the fitness of a single moral purpose, 
or the attainment of one object of ideal perfection, 
brings before the mind. Consequently, language 
being the only means whereby moral and intellectual 
ideas become tangible to our recollection, it is evi- 
dent, that without the power of language, not any of 
these ideas could hold duration in the mind, any 
jnore than the ideal excellence of form could do so 
without a model to represent it ; words being as ne- 
cessary to embody the first, as painting or sculpture 
to incorporate the last. 

Even now that languages are so numerous, so co- 
pious, and so generally known, how difficult do we 
find it to keep in remembrance the recollection of 
ideas simply named! how difficult even to distinguish 
them, as robed in their distinct terms they succes- 
sively pass through the mind ! The mind of man 



28 

may not unaptly be compared to a machine, all parts 
of which are employed in the generative afflux of 
thinking. Thoughts flow on thoughts, and that with 
a force and continuity that almost deprives us of the 
possibility of discriminating them. Scarcely has the 
first wave of ideas swelled into existence, ere it is 
o'er-billowed by the next ; this again by a third, 
which in its turn is submerged by the coming one, 
and thus each overwhelms the other till the conduit 
is closed and the machine worn out. 

In this pressure of thoughts, in this difficulty of giv- 
ing them an appropriate order in the mind, we trace 
the origin of the invention of written signs. Ere that 
useful art was known, ignorance kept the major part 
of mankind in bondage ; and although a particular 
set of men made it the business of their lives to re- 
cord and transmit, by means of oral traditions, the 
accounts of great events, yet the benefits resulting 
from a studious application to the investigation 
of those truths in which the happiness of humanity 
is concerned, were but partially felt, and that from 
no other cause than the one arising in the difficulty of 
preserving and transmitting the result of that investi- 
gation by means of oral words alone, unassisted by 
visible signs. Soon studious men became sensible of 
this great impediment in the march of science ; and, 
as at first, words were invented to express thoughts, 
written signs were now found to picture words, and 



29 

render them ineffaceable before the mind of the then 
living, and of future generations. Lastly, came the 
art of printing : and the laborious investigations of 
learned men in knowledge, for ages back, is spread 
before us as if only the work of a day ! 

From the view which I have given of the necessi- 
ty of Language, it is obvious, that without the per- 
fecting of that faculty, the powers of the mind 
could be used but within narrow limits, and of course 
the improvements of which we are capable would be 
slow, and in many instances unattainable ; all our 
means of improvement depending on the recollection 
which we have of the impressions made on our mind. 
This fact has been satisfactorily proved in more than 
one case, where persons having been lost in their infan- 
cy, and when grown up, caught wild in the w^oods and 
mountains; for although afterwards civilized and 
taught to speak, in not any one instance were they 
found to have had only a very obscure conception of 
what their deserted state had been. 

Another instance in point is that of persons born 
deaf. In the various opportunities which I have had 
of examining the deaf and dumb students, I uniform- 
ly found them wholly deficient in the power of stating 
clearly what their impressions were, ere they had been 
taught to clothe their ideas in words : yet it can- 
not be doubted that they possessed the power of 
having ideas, as also of realizing an image of 



30 

them ; but, deprived of the sense of hearing, and with 
it of the opportunity of acquiring language by imita- 
tion, they were left to the slow process of their own 
imaginative powers to clothe and keep their ideas 
in remembrance ; an operation too difficult to make it 
probable that it would be had recourse to, on any but 
simple and unavoidable occasions. Besides, even as 
respects the mere impression made on the senses by 
common daily occurrences, none but the closest inti 
macy could hold out the prospect of coming at the 
true knowledge of what were the prevalent ideas of 
men situated as were the deaf and dumb, ere the 
rays of light which emanated from the benevolent 
founder of their school, dispersed the darkness in 
which their minds were enveloped ; and as from the 
very incapacity of those ill fated individuals, their 
moral obligations were few, their moral sense must 
have been far less acute than that of mere animal 
character ; hence their thoughts may in general have 
been imbued with ideas resulting from impulses too 
gross to be found worthy of the dignified garment of 
language. 

I wish it to be understood, that when I speak of 
language, I do not limit it to the capacity of speech — 
for whilst language emanates from the powers of the 
mind, speech is the action of the bodily organs, in- 
tended by nature as the instruments of language ; 
consequently, speech is to the mind what the hand, or 



31 

in fact what the whole of the human bodily organi- 
zation is to it — the executive of its intentions ! Hence, 
were it so to happen that a number of men born deaf 
were collected together, and apart from all other hu- 
man beings, there is not a doubt, but that the capa- 
city of language in them, urged on by necessity, and 
^ided by mutual reflection, would soon develope itself 
through some sensible signs, and a written language 
might closely follow that of gesture. And if we but 
reflect for a moment on the extraordinary powers 
which man possesses of rendering each of his bodily 
faculties subservient to the purposes of intelligence, 
we may confidently assert, that such an assemblage 
of men might arrive at a high degree of culture in 
the arts of civilization and in the knowledge of the 
sciences. Nay, it is even possible that the capaci- 
ties of the nervous system might be so completely 
awakened in them, and so nicely exercised, as to 
become sensible to the pleasures of harmony, caused 
by the various vibrations of the atmosphere, namely? 
the harmony of tone. 

On my visit to Wier's Cave, in Virginia, I had 
occasion to enter the dwelling of a neighbouring me- 
chanic, a shoemaker. The door of the house being 
closed only by means of a much- worn wooden latch, 
it opened without the least appearance oi noise or 
violence; and besides, the day was remarkably calm, 
and not a breath of air was stirring ; — still, at my en- 



32 

trance, a man sitting at work at the farther end of 
the room, and with his back to the door, immediately 
turned to see who had come in ; and on my address- 
ing him, to my astonishment I found him to be both 
deaf and dumb : and yet the slight motion and pressure 
of the air, caused by my quiet entrance into the house, 
had been as quickly felt by him as the most distinct 
utterance could have been by the nicest ear. 

But to return to the subject of language : As an 
additional example of its power, would it be unphi- 
losophical to attribute our want of recollection of 
the incidents of our infant years to a want of lan- 
guage to preserve them by ? And on the other hand, 
has not the slow development of the faculty of lan- 
guage in children been wisely ordered to prevent the 
injury which the labour of thoughts w^ould occasion to 
the tender organs of an infant ? This supposition 
may be erroneous, but through how many errors do 
we not go ere we arrive at truth ! A false pro- 
position, if it elicits inquiries, will in the end be use- 
ful. How many follies, says a celebrated writer, 
would we not be guilty of, if our ancestors had not 
committed them before us ! 

To conclude. Language being the power whereby 
the operations of the mind take a form, are preserved 
and transmitted; the more it assimilates to those 
operations, the more comprehensive will it be. It is, 
however, to the languages the nearest approaching 



33 

to those which were spoken by the primitive races of 
men that we must look for remains of this compre- 
hensiveness in its original force. The primitive 
man, untaught in the ornaments and uninfluenced by 
the methods of art, must have spoken a language 
simply but steadily accordant with the impressions 
made on his senses. With him, the organs of speech 
must have taken the lead in the formation of the 
language which his mind dictated. If one or more 
of the impressions made on his senses excited strong 
movements in his mind, his organs of speech would 
suddenly dilate or be violently compressed; and a 
strong aspiration or a violent compression of these 
organs would characterize the utterance of the term 
by which the impressions on his senses were intend- 
ed to be designated. Did, however, the idea to be 
portrayed rest on some mild and pleasing impression, 
an harmonious and a liquid assemblage of sound 
would distinguish the utterance of the word that 
pictured it. And as the impressions by which man 
is governed take their character from the sensible 
objects by which he is surrounded, we are at once 
led to the cause of the difference of style in the char- 
acter and utterance perceivable not only in the lan- 
guages of distinct nations, but in the language of one 
people. 

As, for example: — the language spoken by the 
dwellers in forests, on the mountains, and on the 



34 

barren shores of the tempestuous waves, in the midst 
of gloom, dangers, heights, and storms, must have 
been stronger in its aspirations and sharper in its 
accents than that spoken among the inhabitants of 
the smiling plains ; who, under an even sky, and 
fanned by the mild winds, would naturally speak in 
a cadence both soft and complying. In the two 
principal dialects of the ancient Greek language, 
namely, the Doric and the loriic^ we have the fore- 
going clearly demonstrated. We may indeed philo- 
sophically infer, that the language of the plain could 
not be spoken with advantage in the depths of 
woods, nor on the heights of mountains, any more 
than the loud, harsh, and prolonged tones, which 
mark the language of these last, could be suited to 
the former. On crossing the Gothard in company 
with a Bavarian and a Florentine artist, I had an op- 
portunity of satisfying myself of the truth of what I 
have here advanced ; and I was peculiarly struck 
with the superiority of the effect produced by Schil- 
ler's Song of the Robbers, as sung in the loud tenor 
voice of the German, over a melodious Italian air 
performed in the undulating accents of our Tuscan 
companion. As a further assertion that language must 
comport with climates and localities, I shall not hesi- 
tate to say, that were a colony from Rome to emigrate 
to the w41ds of the Allegany, its hitherto soft and 
melting language would imperceptibly assume a 



35 

figure of expression and a tone of utterance suited to 
the solitude and savageness of its new abode. 

In all the grand features of expression, the Eng- 
lish language is to us particularly deficient. I say 
to us, from the fact, that we have been taught to 
speak it, and to attach certain meanings to certain 
terms, without being made sensible of the correspond- 
ence of the terms to the things which they are 
meant to represent. Consequently, whilst the learn- 
ed seek, in the study of ancient languages, for a 
clearer understanding of their vernacular tongue, the 
untaught move around with the words which they 
daily use, not unlike the wheels of a watch with the 
spring that causes them to go — without being sensi- 
ble of the cause. 

Webster, in the Introduction to his Critical Dic- 
tionary of the English language, says : " Those who 
are acquainted with the English language only, can 
scarcely know the true original meaning of the 
words which they daily use." Finding myself thus 
supported in what I before advanced, I shall follow 
up the subject still farther, and will say, that the 
people who speak the English language as their ver- 
nacular tongue have the disadvantage of speaking a 
language composed of words that do not emanate 
from their own conception of the elements or attri- 
butes which these words are meant to proclaim; 
consequently, the great end of language, namely, 



36 

that of a vivid portraiture of our impressions and 
thoughts, is unattainable to them. The meaning of 
the words which they speak cannot be sensitively 
felt by them ; they cannot and do not recognise in 
those words an image of their actual perception of a 
fact ; they have only been taught to name this or 
that object, act, or sensation, by this or that term ; 
but not comprehending the radicals of the term, they 
cannot be sensible of its analogy with the thing, 
attribute, or impression which it is meant to desig- 
nate. One illustration will suffice to establish the 
truth of this proposition. 

I shall take the word Geography,* and addressing 
myself on the one hand to an ignorant Greek or 
German, ask each successively, in his original lan- 
guage, if he have studied Geography: both will 
in due order answer, '' No ! " I now turn with the 
same question to an equally ignorant Englishman, 
who, with a broad stare, will probably exclaim, 
" Whafs that ? " The cause of the marked differ- 
ence of these two modes of meeting one and the 
same question is evident ; for whilst the Englishman 
has not a single word in his language that can lead 
him to the comprehension of the term Geography, 
the two former individuals being on the contrary 
familiar with the simple words of w^hich are com- 

* See note H. 



37 

pounded Geographia for the Greek, and Erdebesch- 
reibung for the German, both at once understood 
that they were asked if they had studied the descrip- 
tion of the earth. 

The utility of the study of original languages is 
here made evident ; as not any thing will sooner aid 
in dispelling ignorance and false views in general, 
than the correct comprehension of the words which 
we speak. We have not, perhaps, made a suffi- 
ciently strict inquiry into the disadvantages resulting 
from our use of words not radically understood — we 
have not looked earnestly enough on the fact, that 
as language is the first step to the attainment of 
knowledge, the non-comprehending of it is the most 
direct obstacle which could be placed in the way of 
that attainment. And on the other hand, will it be 
presuming too much, were I to attribute the lively 
and imaginative powers displayed in the works of the 
ancient Greeks, as also the spirit of profound philos- 
ophy and of studious research so conspicuous in the 
writings of the Germans, to those having spoken, and 
these now speaking a language perfectly in unison 
with their original and actual perception 7 

An additional disadvantage of the English lan- 
guage is, that being derived from two languages of 
opposite origin, the Latin and the Teuton, it is sel- 
dom that a single word can lead us to the compre- 
hension of a composite, each being of different origin • 



38 

consequently, in most words, ignorant of their pri- 
mary sense, we often adapt them to their secondary^ 
and even to the adverse sense of their original 
meaning. This is particularly true of words compo- 
site, especially those that stand for intellectual ideas, 
a class of words the radicals of which are the most 
difficult to trace. The term whereby the subject of 
the present series of lectures is designated, offers a 
striking example of our proneness to overlook the 
radical intention of the foreign terms which we 
speak ; I mean the term Education^ or its verb, To 
Educate. 

According to the exposition given by English lexi- 
cographers, " Education comprehends all that series 
of inst7'uction which is intended to enlighten the un- 
derstanding, correct the temper, and form the habits 
of youth ; " as to educate is ^' to instruct, instil good 
principles into the mind," &c., &c. 

We have only to look into the radicals of the 
terms to educate and to instruct, to be convinced of 
the error of the foregoing exposition of their meaning; 
nor should our research be thought fastidious, * for 
it is surely of importance that we should knoiv icell 
the real import of the words which we speak ; more 
especially, when these words stand for things on the 
correct use of which the whole sum of our happiness 
depends. 

* See note I. 



39 

The verb TO Educate is a term! The verb to Instruct, also a 
composite, derived from the Latin composite, is from the Latin In- 
Educo, meaning to extract s^rz^o, meaning to set on, put on, 
FORTH, BRING FORTH, DRAW ' Contract for, provide, <^c. It 
OUT, &c. It is compounded of Ex, ' " ' " "' 

OUT OF ; and Duco, to nurse, 

NOURISH, LEAD, CONDUCT,GUIDE, 
BRING, &C. 



composed of in, signifying to- 
wards, against, into ; and struo, 
to build, devise, form, make, &c. 



This etymological definition of the verb to educate 
and to instruct presents us with a clear view of their 
original meaning and of the opposite sense in which 
they stand towards each other. We recognise, that 
whilst TO EDUCATE relates to what is already in 
existence, holds out the evidence of a primary cause 
to the accomplishment of the fixed intentions of 
which it is indispensable, and is of necessity un- 
changeable in both its operations and effects ; to in- 
struct relates, on the contrary, to the projecting of that 
which is not at the time in being, is dependent on 
accidental causes, and is of consequence variable 
and uncertain in its acts and consequences. To 
instruct is in opposition to destroy ;^ the first, /orm^, 
amasses J holds; the last, laysioaste, dissolves, lets go; 
each of which contrary operation may or may not take 
place, either being called into action by circumstan- 
ces of a secondary and variable character. Not so 
to educate, which being founded on the requisition 
of primeval origin, is no less an operation among 
each of the species of beings in nature, than the one 



♦ See note K. 



40 

whereby the Supreme Intelligence gorerns the uni- 
verse. 

We come therefore to the conclusion, that the cor- 
rect meaning of the verb to educate is, to draw forth 
the inherent properties of things, and to adjust, direct, 
and guide their mutual parts and faculties to the end 
that each may act in accordance with its nature and 
the design of its existence. It is to regulate the 
actions of things in obedience to fixed laws, the effect 
of which will be harmony and unity.* Finally, edu- 
cation provides for the experience, the knowledge of 
truth : it is the science whereby harmony and unity 
are produced. Harmony and unity cannot be in 
buildedy formed, created, they being not bodies, but 
simply the effect of the coaction or relative position 
of bodies. As an example : — Does an organist give 
harmony of tone to an organ ? Assuredly not ; but 
the organ-builder having constructed t the instru- 
ment after certain laws of proportion, if acted upon 
in corresponding proportion by the organist, the effect 
will be harmony of tone; if the contrary, dishar- 
mony will be the consequence. Can we find a more 
perfectly constructed being than we behold in man ? 
The work of an omniscient artist^ he is perfect in his 
physical organization, peifect in his mental power ! 

* See note L. t See note M. 



41 

Can philosophy say why, thus privileged, his actions 
produce not always harmony? 

Were it not that it would carry us beyond the limits 
of a Lecture, by entering into a still closer investiga- 
tion of the radicals of the verb to educate through 
all the branching out of its root and origin, many 
curious facts would be developed ; however, as it 
is, we have sufficiently examined the import of the 
word to be convinced that it embraces a wider 
field of action, and is more definite in its aim, than 
we perhaps anticipated. For whilst it is now evi- 
dent to us that all things in nature must be educated^ 
be it through instinct or experience, as in being edu- 
cated consists the means whereby each of the species 
can alone be preserved, we likewise become con- 
vinced that to educate is an art inherent in nature. 
Consequently, the terms to educate and education 
are as ancient as their image on the mind. The 
first human being who reflected on himself, who 
raised a child, a plant, an animal, composed words 
for education and to educate : and as there is not an 
object in nature that does not stand in relation to 
another, it is evident that education must accord 
with these relations. The relations between objects 
can admit of the following classification : — 

1st. Primitive or internal relations, meaning 
those existing between the parts of a body or 
tiling. 



42 

2d. Transitive or external relations^ meaning those 
existing between two separate bodies or things. 

3d. Productive or consequent relations^ that is to 
say, those originating in the action of bodies. 

4th. Secondary or accidental relations^ namely, 
those arising from accidental or changeable causes. 

In the course of this Lecture we shall have occa- 
sion to prove, that whilst man, by virtue of his men- 
tal power, holds mastery over these two last classes 
of relations, nevertheless, in their turn, they exercise 
so powerful a control over him, that it is only by a 
correct understanding of their import that he can 
act up to the intentions of his being. This assump- 
tion brings us to the second section of the subject of 
this Lecture, namely, the education of man relatively 
considered with his three distinct natures of, 

1st, A Physical Being. 

2d, An Intellectual Being. 

3d, A Social Being. 

The first of these considerations, namely, man's 
education as it appertains to the relations of his phy- 
sical state, will form the contents of the next Lec- 
ture. 



NOTES TO LECTURE THE FIRST. 

NOTE A. 

" THE HUMAN HAND."— Page 9. 

As far as the extent of ray reading will permit me to say, I believe 
that since Buffon down to the circumstance that has occasioned the 
publication of the " Bridgewater treatises," I am the only writer who 
has spoken of the human hand as an organ strikingly characteristic of 
a special affinity with an intelligent mind. As early as 1822 I had 
prepared materials for the composition of a philosophical essay on the 
nature of man. Subsequently, my notes were lost ; and owing to 
events, originating in the death of my lamented father, the late 
Major Thomas Herbert O'Sullivan Bear, of Bearhaven, it was not 
till 1830 that I found myself placed in a situation sufficiently calm to 
allow of my turning my attention a second time to the subject. Then, 
however, I found a great obstacle in the loss of my former manuscripts,' 
and with it of numerous interesting notes made during my residence 
in Germany, and a daily intercourse with some of the learned men of 
that country. Despairing of being able to recal to mind the train of 
ideas which my former situation and associations had facilitated, I 
gave up all thoughts of a regularly digested philosophical essay, and 
limiting myself simply to the consideration of the principal features of 
the organization and intention of man, I ranged it under the rubric of 
an Essay on Education, treated as a natural science, in a series of 
short familiar lectures. The first of these was read at the Franklin 
Institute, Philadelphia, January, 1831, and a few copies of it came 
before the public on the 1st of May following, precisely two months 
before the coming out of the first number of the " American Journal of 
Geology and Natural Science;'' the first and only channel through 
which I came to the knowledge of the Bridgewater bequest, and that 
the late Earl had ever thought of the hand in its relation with an intelli- 
gent mind. The learned author of the Journal* will not refuse testify- 
ing to the fact of the priority of my publication to his, particularly as 
at the time, he did me the honour of noticing my humble attempt at 
speculative philosophy. 

In reference to the Bridgewater treatises, all studious men will have 
read that portion of them which treats on the hand. I have not the 
slightest pretension to being thought able to come within any degree of 
its author's (Sir Charles Bell) capacity to treat this curious and im- 

* G. VV. Featherstonhaugh, Esq. Fellow of the Geological Society of London • 
Member of the American Philosophical Society of Philadelphia, Jc. &c ^ ' 



44 

portant subject. I am not an anatomist, nor even a naturalist ; but I 
may assume that the statement which I have given of my opinion of the 
intention of the human hand originates in ideas purely my own. True, 
I cannot support my argument on the spirituality of the hand by proofs 
drawn from anatomical observations, nor indeed is it necessary that I 
should have recourse to any such authority, to establish a fact sufficiently 
demonstrated to the eyes of the philosophic or thinking man. I care 
not how many joints or nerves my hand may contain, nor am I curious 
to examine what are their angles, and how they play ; it is enough for 
me to see that it accomplishes all that which my mind conceives, nor 
do I perceive it to be in the disposition of the several parts of the hand 
discernible to the eye of the naturalist, the physician, or the professor 
of anatomy, but singly in its expression and in its execution, that its 
spiritual mission is felt. The man of science, who shall succeed in 
measuring the changing play of the organ of the seemingly motionless 
lips, whilst clothing the silent thoughts with words ere the utterance 
of them has reached the ear, and explain the nature of the inseparable 
connexion existing between the organs of the lips and the faculties of 
the mind and the hidden feelings of the heart, and which makes it im- 
possible for a thought to arise or a sentiment to exist in either of the 
two last without the coeval expression of it by the first ; so able a man 
will be able to trace mathematically the various expressions of the 
hand. To those who are not sensible of what I mean by the spiritu- 
ality of the human hand, [ shall simply use the words of Schiller : 
" We must despise the worthless being who ne'er reflects on what he 
executes; for the faculty that embellishes man, and to the end of 
which reason was given him, is, that he can trace to his inner breast 
that which he creates with his hand^ 

From my earliest childhood, separated from all parental ties, a va- 
riety of causes occasioned in me a habit of contemplation. Independent 
of the quiet of a cloistered life, nuns in their retirement fill up the 
measure of their time with ceremonies and practices which have a 
remarkable and salutary effect on the young mind, disposing it to the 
love of the sublime and of the innocent. But it was not till after my 
arrival in Germany, among the Germans, in the midst of that moral 
and intellectual people, in the sanctuary of the sciences, and surround- 
ed by the poetic creations of the arts, that my inclination to speculative 
philosophy became fixed ; and among the many objects in nature and 
in man which by turns filled me with wonder, the hand held the first 
rank, and I became satisfied, that an organ that could execute so much, 
must be endowed with a spiritual affinity to the power that guided it; 
and thence I drew the conclusion, that the hand took and bore the im- 
pression of the predominent ideas of the mind and of the passions of 
the heart. 



45 

That I should wish to establish my right to be considered an original 
writer on the hand, might with propriety be attributed to the wish we 
all have of seeing our few talents acknowledged. However, higher 
motives induce me to exertion : A daughter of the ancient house of 
Bearhaven, and yet from my birth doomed to live apart from all relatives, 
my whole life has been spent among strangers— under no control but 
that of my own impulses — nevertheless I have had many friends, 
many distinguished friends, and to these, here or abroad, I would show 
that even now, in my advanced age, I am still attached to those 
pursuits which at an earlier period they honoured in me. I would 
make known to the few of my paternal clan yet in existence, that 
although long exiled from them, still I have preserved pure within my 
mind the spirit handed me down by my sires. Lastly, I would leave 
some memorial that may do honour to my children. 

NOTE B. 

" ANIMAL KINGDOM." — Page 9. 

On the subject of the opening of this Lecture, an able critic, speaking 
of me, writes : " Neither is it safe to open a grave work by asserting 
any thing about the animal kingdom, when the writer is evidently not 
a naturalist." In answer to this I would presume to say, that all per- 
sons of observation, reading and reflection, without being practical 
anatomists or naturalists, may with propriety understand the general 
bearing of those sciences. In matters of learning, the aim of instruc- 
tion is to give a general idea of the fundamental characteristic of all 
the important sciences to a student, leaving him to perfect himself in 
any one of them by a life of study and practice. 

NOTE C. 

" auiET AND PURITY." — Page 13. 
I should act an unjust and an ungrateful part towards the sisterhood 
of La Congregation Notre Dame, at Montreal, were I not to take this 
opportunity of reprobating the slanders which of late years have come 
from the press in this country to the disadvantage of female convents 
abroad in general, and of those of Montreal in particular. Letting 
alone the audacity and absurdity of traducing the purity of life of a 
community of women, established in a British province, and under the 
surveillance and guardianship of British virtue, of British laws, I 
would point out to my own sex at least, the insult offered them by 
these demoralizing and impure writings. Since 1798, that I left the 
convent of La Congregation Notre Dame at Montreal^ where from 
the tender age of two until I had attained my sixteenth year, I was 
kindly fostered and educated ; where I received that nursing which a 
mother could not give me, and that protection which my father was 



46 

too distant to afford me — since then. I sar,. I have had scarcely any 
intercourse with persons of the Roman Church, and indeed most of my 
friends among religious men have been clergymen of the Church of 
England, and these will testify that I am free from all prejudices on 
Church matters; and they will credit my assertion, when I say. that 
more monstrous falsehoods could not have been told of pure and chari- 
table persons than those that have formed the contents of the loathsome 
books that have been circulated throughout this country respecting the 
convents in Montreal. At this instant I turn with affectionate remem- 
brance to the quiet and innocent scenes of my early life — scenes where- 
in I imbibed a rich store of those high-toned sentiments that have 
been my safeguard through a life of excessive sorrows. I have not 
seen the place since. If. perchance, these pages should travel thither, 
may the pious nuns of whom I speak, accept these few lines as a tribute 
to their virtue, and as a mark of the remembrance of one whose life 
has been too stormy to leave her leisure to commune with them. 

NOTE D. 

'•'in that particular clan.-' — Page lf5. 
The -'O'Sullivan Bear.*" — Whilst at Rotterdam on business with Alex- 
ander Ferrier. British Consul and executor to my late father's will. I 
became acquainted with his Secretary, Mr. Masterson, who showed me 
an interesting document, namely, a fac simile of an ancient map of 
Ireland, to be seen in the royal archives of Brussels. On it the divi- 
sions of the counties being principally marked out by the names of the 
reignant family, it was with no little pride that I saw the name of 
O'Sullivan spread over the whole south of that island; the O'Sullivan 
Bear having the largest share, the O'Sullivan Moor the least. The 
pride of hand among the O'Sullivans is perfectly clanish. 

NOTE E. 
'• siGmxG HA>D.*' — Page IT. 
It is difficult for me to state the idea which I mean to convey by this 
expression ; perhaps it might be understood more clearly by the word. 
tremor in its softest, and most silent, and j'et most affecting degree. 
Those whose heart and mind have been touched by softening or by sad 
emotions will understand me. They who do not, cannot as j-et have 
felt either pleasure or pain, or are incapable of being sensible to either. 

NOTE F. 
'• A ecMiuATLNG SATIRE." — Page 17. 
These compositions are losing ground in public opinion, and it is 
beginning to be understood that the men, in lowering woman, lower 
themselves ; whilst in proportion to the recognition of the worth of wo- 
man, men themselves become more worthy. 



47 



NOTE G. 
'' EOTAL."— Page la 



Having a great respect for the individual whose criticism on this 
Lecture I have already spoken of, I am anxious that he should not 
misunderstand my motives. Speaking fanher of me, he sav^ ■•' There 
IS an occasional display of foibles, that detracts from her merits. The 
passage about royal personages can serve no pmT)ose but that of draw- 
ing unfriendly criticism upon her." If the gentleman had reflected for 
a moment on the association of ideas that mnst have occupied mv 
. mmd whiLn uTiting the passage which he disapproves of. he would have 
seen that they were too exalted to admit of the meaner consideration 
which he would seem to intimate. I was speaking of the hand of Mrs 
Siddons, a personage who fiUed up, in my mind, the beau ideal of a 
perfect woman. I speak of her hand being commanding, and forth- 
with draw a comparison with that of royal persons, whose habits are 
that of command. Besides, although as a royalist, I feel towards kines 
all the reverence which is their due, still, from mx infancy bein^ ac- 
customed to the idea of having the right to appear in their presence I 
could not have been guilty of a weakness inconsistent with my habhs, 
and beneath the grave and sublime subject by which my mind was at 
the time taken up. 

-VOTE H. 

■• rSEFCL TO HIMSELF OR TO HIS FEXLOW-BEOGS."— Page 30. 

A sensible Englishman thought me wrong in this assumption! yet I 
cannot but repeat it, and in support of my opinion I wiU giye the only 
passage in BeU's Essay, which actuaUy speaks of the hand in corre- 
spondence with the mind. " The hand which is to becmne the instru- 
ment for perfecting the other senses, and dctdaping the endowmunU 
of the mind itself, is in infants absebOefypaweHess.- This {Mssage is 
aU-sufficient to establish the correctness of my position. I hare seen 
exhibitions of little petty anicles of workmanship, curioos, because exe- 
cuted by men or women who had no hands ; but which in point of art 
or utility had not the slightest value. 

NOTE H. 

"geography.-- — Page 36. 
Some one has blamed my putting such a question to an ignorant 
man, and thus placing myself as it were, on a par with him and his cart- 
horse, and I was further told to recollect, that the most useful branch of 
knowledge is not to ask a foolish question. It is evident that this critic mis- 
understood me, or did not read the whole passage, else he would have dis- 
covered that it was precisely from my addressing myself to an ignorant 



48 

man of both nations tliat I wished to establish my position of the superior- 
ity of original over originated languages. But, suppose that, in lieu of 
the term geography, I had chosen one less generally understood ; for ex- 
ample, the term stelog-raphy, it is more than probable that a well-edu- 
cated man, who nevertheless knew only his mother tongue, would not 
comprehend its meaning, while its equivalent, Sdulenschrift, in the 
German, would be perfectly understood by a German of not the least 
education. 

NOTE I. 

" NOR SHOULD OUR RESEARCH BE THOUGHT FASTIDIOUS.'' — PagC 38. 

I know not a work that would prove of more utility than a derivative 
dictionary of all those words from the ancient languages which we have 
adopted for moral ideas and for sciences. Were we to examine the roots 
of each of these classes of words, and that of their component part, we 
would be struck with astonishment at the obscure and often false inter- 
pretation which we have given them ; whilst our minds would be filled 
with admiration at the extended and sublime, yet natural character of 
their real meaning. 

NOTE K. 

" TO DESTROY." — Page 39. 
This operation, as also to instruct, is the act of man. In nature there 
is neither instruction nor destruction, all things being subject to cer- 
tain laws, and the changes we perceive in objects being necessary to 
the preservation of the whole. Not so with the creations of man : not 
being the work of Omniscience, they are subjected to the nothingness 
which, from their imperfect and often capricious origin, must inevita- 
bly be their doom. 

NOTE K. 

'' HARMONY AND UNITY." — Page 40. 

Every thing in nature feels the necessity of this. Beauty in any ob- 
ject is only a harmonious proportion and unity of its parts ; and if 
children and even animals look with pleasure on such objects, how 
much more is it required that man, who has attained the full strength of 
his faculties and mental powers, should study its importance, and regu- 
late his actions by it. 

NOTE M. 

"the ORGAN-BUILDER HAVING CONSTRUCTED THE INSTRUMENT." — Page 40. 

Here we have an example of the difference existing between the 
work of man and that of nature. Nature never errs, and all her crea- 
tions are endowed with self-acting powers, while the creations of man 
are inert and passive. 



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